—“is too small for anything bigger than a French chop!”
“When Chub gets awfully hungry,” observed Dick, “we might tie up to the shore and cook him something over the fire; have a barbecue, you know.”
“Cook a whole ox for him,” laughed Roy. “I guess that’s the only way Chub will ever get enough to eat.”
“You quit bothering about me,” said Chub scornfully, “and study seamanship. Remember you’re to be an able seaman and if you don’t come up to the standard for able seaman I’ll do things to you with a belaying-pin.”
“Isn’t he the cruel-hearted captain?” asked Dick. “I don’t believe I want to ship with him, Roy.”
“Oh, you’ll be all right. Chub won’t dare to touch you for fear he won’t get his dinner.”
“There you go again!” Chub groaned. “You fellows simply talk a subject to death. Your conversation lacks—lacks variety, diversity. If you are quite through vilifying me—”
“Doesn’t he use lovely language?” murmured Roy in an aside to Dick.
